


Heart of Stone

by Dreamin



Series: Heart of Stone [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, F/M, Modern Era, Molly is Medusa, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 05:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15599820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Molly Hooper is a lot older and a lot less human than she looks. Mycroft needs to know the truth.





	Heart of Stone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



> I'm just going to blame this on not enough sleep and too much stress.

For a person to survive the world of mortals since the classical (gods, she hated that term) age, they would have to be resourceful, determined, and adaptable.

Molly Hooper, nee Medusa, had those characteristics in spades.

Hecate had taught her the art of illusion, so she could disguise her nature from the mortal gaze, and Athena herself had taught her how to look upon mortal men without turning them to stone. It was all about controlling her anger and saving her power for when it was most needed.

Many mortals fancying themselves heroes hunted her in antiquity, but all of them failed, even the great Perseus. He was the only one she had spared, though she never could say why.

Eventually, stories of the snake-haired woman who turned men to stone were replaced in the mortal imagination with other tales and she was left alone. That was when she found her true calling – protecting women and children from those that would prey upon them.

Now, in the 21st Century, she would help her mortal friends solve murders then she would exact her revenge on those who preyed on the innocent before they ever went to trial. Lestrade could never explain why so many suspects vanished, but since none of them ever returned to their life of crime, he couldn’t find any reason to dig any deeper.

Molly thought no one would ever look too closely at her or the men she made vanish.

She should have known that some mortals should not be underestimated.

* * *

She was walking into one of the side entrances of Bart’s, looking down to brush the stone dust off her clothes, when she nearly collided with someone. “Oh! Sorry, I should look where I’m-” Her words died in her throat when she looked up and saw that she had nearly run into Mycroft Holmes, but it was the look in his eyes that made her want to run to the nearest cave.

“Are you finished?” he asked, his quiet voice like ice. “Were you thorough?” he added when she didn’t answer. “Or is someone going to find pieces of a petrified rapist in a Dumpster near here?”

Molly swallowed hard but stood her ground. _I knew this day would come._ “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.” Grabbing her none-too-gently by the upper arm, he led her to the nearest elevator.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded as soon as the doors were closed.

“Your office. You have a great deal of explaining to do, Dr. Hooper.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Or should I call you Medusa?”

Molly narrowed her eyes at him, letting just enough of her illusion to slip to reveal her natural, reptilian eyes: gold irises, the pupils in the bright light of the elevator vertical slits. To his credit, Mycroft was wise enough to take a step back. At the ding of the elevator signaling they had arrived, she restored the illusion, giving her back the large, brown, human eyes she had been born with. She smirked when the doors slid open. “After you.”

The British Government hesitated only a moment before leaving the elevator and heading briskly down the hallway. Molly followed him at a leisurely pace, weighing her options. _I can’t kill him, too many mortals would notice his absence. Besides, he’s one of the few people who can keep Sherlock somewhat in line. But he knows about me, I have to do something about that._

She walked into her too-damn-small office then closed and locked the door behind her. Mycroft leaned against her small desk, assessing her.

“Should I fear for my life?” he asked casually, as if he hadn’t just threatened a monster from the Age of Heroes.

“I don’t know – have you attacked or threatened women or children recently?” Suddenly feeling very weary, she crossed the tiny room to her chair and sat down.

“Only yourself,” he admitted.

“I haven’t been a woman for twenty-seven centuries. You’re physically no threat to me, Mycroft. My only danger from you is exposure.”

“No one would believe the truth.”

She laughed bitterly. “You’d be surprised. Deep within the human psyche (she was a bitch, by the way) is the fear of the dark and what lurks within it. At first, they hunted me, then in the Middle Ages, they hunted dragons, calling me a she-dragon. Finally, they left me alone, but they still tell stories of me, the monster who can kill with a glance. Believe me, it wouldn’t take much proof for them to come after me again.”

“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” Mycroft pulled his mobile from his pocket then brought up a video. The grainy black-and-white video timestamped the night before clearly showed her confronting a man much larger than her. He lunged at her then suddenly froze, his entire body turning to stone. Then it showed her looking around before picking the statue up with inhuman strength and carrying it offscreen. Mycroft put his phone away.

“What are you going to do with that video?” she asked warily.

“Nothing, I’ll delete it shortly. I merely wanted to warn you to be more careful.”

Molly raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that all?”

“I have questions, naturally, but this is hardly the time or place to interrogate a woman about her life in Ancient Greece.”

She stiffened. “I told you, I’m not a woman, not after what Athena did.” She waved a hand down her body. “This is how I looked before, it’s not what I am now.”

“Show me,” Mycroft said, his eyes fairly burning with curiosity. “Let me be the judge.”

Molly raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re playing with fire, mortal. Prometheus would be proud.”

“I merely want to prove a point.”

She assessed him for a moment. “Very well.” She stood then quickly undressed, much to Mycroft’s apparent surprise. When she was completely unclothed, she dropped the illusion. Her soft, smooth skin turned to pale grey scales, her warm brown eyes turned reptilian again, and her long brown hair turned to hissing emerald green snakes.

His eyes widened but she saw no fear, only sympathy and perhaps something else. It suddenly hit her like a boulder between the eyes. “Affection?” she blurted.

“Why do you sound surprised?” he asked, his voice gentler than she’d ever heard it. “There is beauty in the severity of your form. You are no less a woman now than you were before Athena changed you.”

She stared at him. “I’m a monster.”

“You are if you believe you are.” He straightened then held out a hand to her. “To me, you are a survivor and a protector, and the world is better off with you in it.”

For the first time since that horrible day in Athena’s temple, Molly felt tears come to her eyes. She turned away and buried her face in her hands, not wanting him to see her weakness. After a moment, she felt arms wrap around her securely and she cried into his jacket.

Mycroft held her until she calmed, then he murmured, “Look at me, Molly.”

When she lifted her head, he lowered his to kiss her softly. Molly immediately stiffened then relaxed. This was no god trying to ravish her, this was a mortal showing her that he cared. Starved for the most basic human affection, she clung to him, kissing him back with all that was in her. All the pain, all the anger, all the loneliness.

He ended the kiss then murmured, “Get dressed and I will take you home. I believe we have much to discuss.”

Molly could only nod. She felt something she hadn’t felt in so long, she almost didn’t recognize it.

Hope.


End file.
